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In a calm area of the city, an individual can be found in his driveway, dressed in a tank top and voicing his thoughts. “I feel my voice is fading. Harder to see,” states Leonard, staring toward the stars. “Events have unfolded and currently I believe if I don’t do something, my life will proceed in this simple, peaceful routine.” Hungry Paul, his closest and only friend, considers this statement. “That's perfectly fine,” he replies, his robe flapping with the wind. “Preferable to striving for recognition only to wind up defacing it.”

For those tired by the noise and constant stimulation of current streaming terrain, this series arrives similar to a cozy wrap and a comforting beverage of a sweet cordial.

Like its harmless protagonists, the series – a six-episode program created by Richie Conroy and Mark Hodkinson, adapted from the novelist’s understated 2019 novel – looks disapprovingly at modern life; looking disapprovingly through its spectacles on everything in the way of unnecessary noise, quick actions or – goodness forbid – too much drive. The series on the contrary, a celebration of shyness; a subtle homage to people satisfied to wander out of the spotlight. But. The character (a further distinctly original performance from Alex Lawther) is unsettled. He feels an increasing “urge to throw open the openings of my life … slightly.” The loss of his parent has whisked the rug away from his feet and the 32-year-old, a writer for others, now feels reconsidering the choices that have brought him to his current situation (single; sporting facial hair; creating multiple educational volumes for a man who signs off correspondence saying “ciao for now”).

Thus Leonard starts on a journey for emotional fulfilment, accompanied by the somewhat braver friend Paul (Laurie Kynaston) acting as his trusted friend, life coach and partner in a weekly board games evening which acts as discussion (“Is the water heated due to children urinating, or do children urinate because it’s warm?”) and safe space.

(What's the origin of "Hungry" Paul? It's unclear. The origin of the nickname is shrouded to the mists of time. Perhaps he previously devoured some food in record time, or reacted to a socially fraught incident by nervously peeling several snacks with his teeth).

Entering Leonard's quiet life cartwheels a vibrant character (the actress), a new lively co-worker who lightheartedly proposes to get rid of Leonard’s appalling boss (the character) at a fire practice. The swift movement noticeable represents Leonard's calm life experiencing a revolution.

In other scenes in the initial show of this program focused less on story and more on what younger viewers may refer to as “mood”, we are introduced to Hungry Paul’s dad (the ever-wonderful the actor), a tired character who privately views, tapes and rewatches television game programs to dazzle his loving spouse through his fact recall.

Shepherding us throughout this subtle warmth we hear a narrator that is unmistakably – and actually is – Julia Roberts. Truly, the celebrity. If you are thinking, “surely the use of such a famous actor is at odds with the series’ unshowy MO and initially serves only as an interruption?” you would be correct. Still, Roberts does a good job, and dialogue for example “Leonard's challenge is the missing a look of sudden insight” assist in making sure that early misgivings give way if not quite to appreciation, then at least acceptance.

Enough complaining currently. Leonard and Hungry Paul’s heart is well-intentioned: which is “resting on a bench next to the Detectorists, pointing out its favourite duck.” The program that moves gently in its sleeveless jumper, at times staring at the stars, sometimes downward toward the ground, quietly confident that no experience is in the world as uplifting as spending time alongside close companions.

Unlock the entryways within your world, a little, and allow it entry.